Best 407 quotes in «pregnancy quotes» category

He kissed my belly, “Just think. All the love that we have for each other, we put it in this safe place here.” He kissed my belly again.

Hello world, goodbye womb.

Henry's also an insomniac. He suffers from Restless Leg Syndrome. I feel the sheets twitching as his legs move restlessly and think about how incredibly bourgeois we are, with our Sur La Table kitchenware, our Sundance catalogue lamps, our upper-middle class insomnia. Why can't we sleep, I wonder? We have enough to eat, we have a roof over our heads, we're not living in a mud hut sporting a thatch of gnarled leaves that barely cover our genitalia. I'm filled with self-loathing.

Her body accepted my brutal seed and took it to swell within, just as the patient earth accepts a falling fruit into its tender soil to cradle and nourish it to grow. Came a time, just springtime last, our infant child pushed through the fragile barrier of her womb. Her legs branched out, just as the wood branches out from these eternal trees around us; but she was not hardy as they. My wife groaned with blood and ceased to breathe. Aye!, a scornful eve that bred the kind of pain only a god can withstand.

How is it that you're such an expert on home pregnancy kits?" You're asking that question of an Italian stallion like myself? The women call me 'sperm of thunder'. I don't dare stand too close for fear I may impregnate them with just a whiff of my manhood.

I emphasize this because some of my colleagues, for whose academic attainments I have great respect, argue" 'You assume too much; this is not proved; this is not strictly scientific. We disagree with your neurology and your psychiatry is misleading, therefore you must be wrong.' My reply has been, with all humility: 'Yes, of course,' and I have returned to the labor ward to be greeted by happy women with their newborn babies in their arms: 'How right you are, Doctor, it is so much easier that way.' That is what really matters to the clinician. He should use the method that gives the best and safest result from all points of view until something better is discovered.

He turned back to her stomach and got very close. She thought he meant to kiss her again and prepared to enjoy his lips on her abdomen once more. Instead he addressed the fiery ball of cells. "Lucy," he said, deepening his voice in a really wretched imitation of Darth Vader. "I am your father." Alison groaned. her breh was such a ham. A terrible, wonderful, sexy, vampire ham. Who'd've thought?

Holy moment is a sacred existence.

Hola, hola, mi pequeño ángel con alas de mariposa

Hope is the assurance of positive expectations.

I can still smell dog poo everywhere. It stinks.

If a womb had a window, the world would sit up and take notice.

If she says NO, the entire human race will be wiped off the face of this earth in less than 100 years.

If we born into the world, we must seek rebirth in the world.

I have a question. Is it okay to drink while you're pregnant...if you're planning on giving the baby up for adoption?

If your prayers are not fertile, what are they? How do you make the Buddy System feminine? Pink is feminine.

If you want to know the value of a month, ask a pregnant woman, if a month matters in her pregnancy.

I have started looking into the mirror more often. I have pigmentation, a few blemishes. My body never looked like this, never felt like this- heavy, tired, exhausted, swollen, achy, weak. There are a million reasons to not like myself right now. But one reason that outgrows all these emotions- I am the first home to my baby. A woman can dislike her body, can she really dislike her baby’s abode? Therefore, I love the way it’s swelling- it gives my baby’s tiny arms and legs more space. I love the way it’s pigmenting, it gives my baby better protection from the sun. I love the way it’s exhausted, it prioritises baby’s nutritional requirements over mine. And I would love all the stretch marks in the end too. That’s my baby’s name plate at his first home.

I hoped what little dinner I'd eaten wasn't something my new baby-rich body didn't like. I didn't want to throw up all over the bad guys, or then again maybe I did. It would certainly be distracting.

I feel like you’re trying to convince me that we don’t need condoms, but fuck that. If you impregnate me, I’m going to devour “ you like a praying mantis.” I pin Zeph against the wall and kiss her hard, because her threatening to kill or mutilate me is always so hot.

I'm not important, having a child is not an amazing feat, and my child, while extraordinarily important to and beloved by her parents, is not particularly special in the scheme of things.

I’m going to make you come shopping with me for maternity clothes." "I can handle it. In fact, I’m rather looking forward to you having a bump." He smoothed a hand across my stomach, something he’d taken to doing a lot. "My bump? Why?" "It’s a caveman thing," he joked. "Elaborate." I repeated his word back at him. [...] "When every man sees our bump, they’ll know I was the one you let inside you, they’ll know you’re mine and I’m yours, and that growing inside you is our kid.

Imperfections, if we allowed them, can help to create a blinding love to fill a perfectly, imperfect life.

I’m not this unusual,” she said. “It’s just my hair.” She looked at Bobby and she looked at me, with an expression at once disdainful and imploring. She was forty, pregnant, and in love with two men at once. I think what she could not abide was the zaniness of her life. Like many of us, she had grown up expecting romance to bestow dignity and direction. “Be brave,” I told her. Bobby and I stood before her, confused and homeless and lacking a plan, beset by an aching but chaotic love that refused to focus in the conventional way. Traffic roared behind us. A truck honked its hydraulic horn, a monstrous, oceanic sound. Clare shook her head, not in denial but in exasperation. Because she could think of nothing else to do, she began walking again, more slowly, toward the row of trees.

In classical art this 'aura' surrounding motherhood depicts repose. The dominant culture projects pregnancy as a time of quiet waiting. We refer to the woman as 'expecting,' as though this new life were flying in from another planet and she sat in her rocking chair by the window, occasionally moving the curtain aside to see whether the ship is coming. The image of uneventful waiting associated with pregnancy reveals clearly how much the discourse of pregnancy leaves out the subjectivity of the woman. From the point of view of others pregnancy is primarily a time of waiting and watching, when nothing happens. For the pregnant subject, on the other hand, pregnancy has a temporality of movement, growth, and change. The pregnant subject is not simply a splitting which the two halves lie open and still, but a dialectic. The pregnant woman experiences herself as a source and participant in a creative process. Though she does not plan and direct it, neither does it merely wash over; rather, she is this process, this change. Time stretches out, moments and days take on a depth because she experiences more changes in herself, her body. Each day, each week, she looks at herself for signs of transformation... For others the birth of an infant may only be a beginning, but for the birthing woman it is a conclusion as well. It signals the close of a process she has been undergoing for nine months, the leaving of this unique body she has moved through, always surprising her a bit in its boundary changes and inner kicks. Especially if this is her first child she experiences the birth as a transition to a new self that she may both desire and fear. She fears a loss of identity, as though on the other side of the birth she herself became a transformed person, such that she would 'never be the same again.

...in early pregnancy her ability to tolerate heat stress improves by about 30 percent and in late pregnancy by at least 70 percent. Indeed, when a woman exercises at 65 percent of her maximum capacity in late pregnancy, her peak core temperature during exercise does not even get up to the level it was at rest before she became pregnant.

Inside, the midwife was trying to get Socorro to open her mouth wide and let the pain come out. "Open your mouth," said Angelina, massaging Socorro's neck and shoulders, "and let out what you feel. Don't keep it in, querida, let it out." Socorro cried softly at first, but little by little she loosened up and she began to let out long, ear-piercing screams. "Good," said the midwife, "now breathe deeply, deeply, and then cry out again, letting all the pain go out of your body.

In M---, an important town in northern Italy, the widowed Marquise of O---, a lady of unblemished reputation and the mother of several well-brought-up children, inserted the following announcement in the newspapers: that she had, without knowledge of the cause, come to find herself in a certain situation; that she would like the father of the child she was expecting to disclose his identity to her; that she was resolved, out of consideration to her family, to marry him.

Is any child at birth, born in a cage?

Isn’t it wonderful to give birth to your own kind?

I stared at her - unable to accept that at one time I was growing inside her. I was once just a couple of cells. My father and my mother were naked something had to be satisfactory about it, because he came inside her and she got pregnant. She, like me, was once a baby in her mother's stomach and so on and so forth and so it goes. So it goes.

Is the any spectacular moment like the angelic birth of a child?

I still couldn't imagine that she was really, truly pregnant; maybe this was an hysterical pregnancy. But Sarah was never hysterical. Enthusiastic, yes, ironic on occasion. I couldn't imagine a doctor saying, "No, it's just an ironic pregnancy.

In the Bible, a woman was made from a man. In real life, a man is made from a woman.

Lying by Johannes in the darkness, envying him the unquestioned habit of sleep, the way he could remove himself, I wished that I might pause, take stock; that is a thought that comes back to me now: that I would like to pause pregnancy like a film, to walk away, do something else, returning later when I have had time to rest or think. I had always, before my pregnancy, regarded my body as a kind of tool, a necessary mechanism, largely self-sustaining, which, unless malfunctioning, did what I instructed of it, and so to have my agency so abruptly curtailed, revealed as little more than conceit, felt like betrayal. I no longer listened to my own command. Inside me, while I wished that I might be able to be elsewhere, that I might leave my body in the frowsty sheets and go downstairs to sit in the dark kitchen, unswollen and cool, cells split to cells, thoughtless and ascending, forming heart and lungs, eyes, ears- a hand grew nails- this child already going about its business, its still uncomprehending mind unreachable, apart.

Many of us are failed secret attempts to keep our parents together.

Many parents love their children. Yet they make them suffer a lot in the name of love. They’re often not capable of understanding their children’s suffering, difficulties, hopes, and aspirations. We have to ask ourselves, “Am I really loving the other person by understanding them or am I just projecting my own needs?

Men need women. Women need men.

Miraculous is divine.

Mom and dad probably told you I've been arrested. I'm innocent. I want you to know that.

Never give a lousy person the opportunity to create lousy babies.

Not only a pregnant woman is an outrage toward ethics but also an attack on aesthetics. Motherhood degrades women, it turns them into cows. With the forgiveness of cows, my sisters.

Now she felt good. She felt great. She loved her swelling body, loved how everyone gave way before her, paid her tribute, wanted to touch her arm or shoulder. In the mirror, her face glowed. Her days of nausea were forgotten. Pregnancy was easy, it was a breeze on a summer day.

Of all the guile! How can you be objective? You have no perspective! You’re only 16!

Oh my God!” Sam said again, his voice shaking. I’ve given birth to something inhuman, Phoebe thought. A lamprey with row after row of teeth.

Sometimes the Light searched and listened for something unknown, but mostly it was warm and happy.

Sometimes you just need the comforts of home, the familiarity of your own family bed and only the pampering a mother can do.

Some women would not have contracted an STD or STDs had they not been on the pill.

Supernatural is spiritual.

I hope that teen moms realize that their path to success still exists, and the only way to achieve it is to make the decision to go after it.